Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing.Pdf
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My biggest problem is my brother, Farley Drexel Hatcher. Everybody calls him Fudge. I feel sorry for him if he’s going to grow up with a name like Fudge, but I don’t say a word. It’s none of my business. Fudge is always in my way. He messes up everything he sees. And when he gets mad he throws himself flat on the floor and he screams. And he kicks. And he bangs his fists. The only time I really like him is when he’s sleeping. He sucks four fingers on his left hand and makes a slurping noise. When Fudge saw Dribble he said, “Ohhhhh . see!” And I said, “That’s my turtle, get it? Mine! You don’t touch him.” Fudge said, “No touch.” Then he laughed like crazy. BOOKS BY JUDY BLUME The Pain and the Great One Soupy Saturdays with the Pain and the Great One Cool Zone with the Pain and the Great One Going, Going, Gone! with the Pain and the Great One Friend or Fiend? with the Pain and the Great One The One in the Middle Is the Green Kangaroo Freckle Juice THE FUDGE BOOKS Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great Superfudge Fudge-a-Mania Double Fudge Blubber Iggie’s House Starring Sally J. Freedman as Herself Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret It’s Not the End of the World Then Again, Maybe I Won’t Deenie Just as Long as We’re Together Here’s to You, Rachel Robinson Tiger Eyes Forever Letters to Judy Places I Never Meant to Be: Original Stories by Censored Writers (edited by Judy Blume) PUFFIN BOOKS Published by the Penguin Group Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A. Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3 (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd) Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi - 110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd) Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa Registered Offices: Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England First published in the United States of America by Dutton Children’s Books, 1972 Published by Puffin Books, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 2003 Reissued by Puffin Books, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 2007 Copyright © Judy Blume, 1972 Illustration copyright © Jules Feiffer, 2007 All rights reserved THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS HAS CATALOGED THE DUTTON CHILDREN’S BOOKS EDITION AS FOLLOWS: Blume, Judy. Tales of a fourth grade nothing / by Judy Blume. p. cm. Summary: Peter finds his demanding two-year-old brother an ever increasing problem. ISBN: 0-525-40720-0 (hc) [1. Brothers—Fiction. 2. Family life—Fiction. 3. Humorous stories.] I. Title. PZ7.B6265 Tal [Fic] 70-179050 CIP This Puffin edition ISBN 9781101564073 Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content. Version_4 For Larry, who is a combination of Peter and Fudge, and for Willie Mae, who told me about Dribble Contents The Big Winner Mr. and Mrs. Juicy-O The Family Dog My Brother the Bird The Birthday Bash Fang Hits Town The Flying Train Committee The TV Star Just Another Rainy Day Dribble! 1 The Big Winner I won Dribble at Jimmy Fargo’s birthday party. All the other guys got to take home goldfish in little plastic bags. I won him because I guessed there were three hundred and forty-eight jelly beans in Mrs. Fargo’s jar. Really, there were four hundred and twenty-three, she told us later. Still, my guess was closest. “Peter Warren Hatcher is the big winner!” Mrs. Fargo announced. At first I felt bad that I didn’t get a goldfish too. Then Jimmy handed me a glass bowl. Inside there was some water and three rocks. A tiny green turtle was sleeping on the biggest rock. All the other guys looked at their goldfish. I knew what they were thinking. They wished they could have tiny green turtles too. I named my turtle Dribble while I was walking home from Jimmy’s party. I live at 25 West 68th Street. It’s an old apartment building. But it’s got one of the best elevators in New York City. There are mirrors all around. You can see yourself from every angle. There’s a soft, cushioned bench to sit on if you’re too tired to stand. The elevator operator’s name is Henry Bevelheimer. He lets us call him Henry because Bevelheimer’s very hard to say. Our apartment’s on the twelfth floor. But I don’t have to tell Henry. He already knows. He knows everybody in the building. He’s that smart! He even knows I’m nine and in fourth grade. I showed him Dribble right away. “I won him at a birthday party,” I said. Henry smiled. “Your mother’s going to be surprised.” * * * Henry was right. My mother was really surprised. Her mouth opened when I said, “Just look at what I won at Jimmy Fargo’s birthday party.” I held up my tiny green turtle. “I’ve already named him . Dribble! Isn’t that a great name for a turtle?” My mother made a face. “I don’t like the way he smells,” she said. “What do you mean?” I asked. I put my nose right down close to him. I didn’t smell anything but turtle. So Dribble smells like turtle, I thought. Well, he’s supposed to. That’s what he is! “And I’m not going to take care of him either,” my mother added. “Of course you’re not,” I told her. “He’s my turtle. And I’m the one who’s going to take care of him.” “You’re going to change his water and clean out his bowl and feed him and all of that?” she asked. “Yes,” I said. “And even more. I’m going to see to it that he’s happy!” This time my mother made a funny noise. Like a groan. I went into my bedroom. I put Dribble on top of my dresser. I tried to pet him and tell him he would be happy living with me. But it isn’t easy to pet a turtle. They aren’t soft and furry and they don’t lick you or anything. Still, I had my very own pet at last. Later, when I sat down at the dinner table, my mother said, “I smell turtle. Peter, go and scrub your hands!” * * * Some people might think that my mother is my biggest problem. She doesn’t like turtles and she’s always telling me to scrub my hands. That doesn’t mean just run them under the water. Scrub means I’m supposed to use soap and rub my hands together. Then I’ve got to rinse and dry them. I ought to know by now. I’ve heard it enough! But my mother isn’t my biggest problem. Neither is my father. He spends a lot of time watching commercials on TV. That’s because he’s in the advertising business. These days his favorite commercial is the one about Juicy-O. He wrote it himself. And the president of the Juicy-O company liked it so much he sent my father a whole crate of Juicy-O for our family to drink. It tastes like a combination of oranges, pineapples, grapefruits, pears, and bananas. (And if you want to know the truth, I’m getting pretty sick of drinking it.) But Juicy-O isn’t my biggest problem either. My biggest problem is my brother, Farley Drexel Hatcher. He’s two-and-a-half years old. Everybody calls him Fudge. I feel sorry for him if he’s going to grow up with a name like Fudge, but I don’t say a word. It’s none of my business. Fudge is always in my way. He messes up everything he sees. And when he gets mad he throws himself flat on the floor and he screams. And he kicks. And he bangs his fists. The only time I really like him is when he’s sleeping. He sucks four fingers on his left hand and makes a slurping noise. When Fudge saw Dribble he said, “Ohhhhh . see!” And I said, “That’s my turtle, get it? Mine! You don’t touch him.” Fudge said, “No touch.” Then he laughed like crazy. 2 Mr. and Mrs. Juicy-O One night my father came home from the office all excited. He told us Mr. and Mrs. Yarby were coming to New York.